Forget Me Not And Remember Me Soon
by sleepy-orange
Summary: A sort of 50 First Dates meets Reincarnation fic. What if an accident prevents Merlin from remembering Arthur?     Warnings: Amnesia. Reincarnation. Some swear words?


**Forget Me Not (And Remember Me Soon)**

Merlin doesn't always know who Arthur is.

* * *

Sometimes he's just the cute blonde guy that comes in the morning, orders waffles with coffee and then proceeds to create a waffle fort. He'll sit there for hours, brow wrinkled in a little frown as he concentrates on making his waffle fort the best fort there is, planting little flags at the top of the turrets and pouring the syrup around his plate like the moat surrounding a castle. He'll peek out from behind his fringe to see if Merlin is watching, catch his eye for a second and then go back to his fort with a renewed vigour, the pink tip of his tongue slipping out. His eyes are blue, so blue and they spark a little something of recognition in Merlin even though he's never seen him before.

Merlin knows that Will is glaring at the guy, boring holes of death behind his back, purposefully burning his waffles despite Gwen's small _hmph_ of disapproval. He watches Gwen refill the empty cup of coffee, and if she's a little sloppy in pouring out the liquid till it scorches the bloke's hand, then it's just an accident, because Gwen is a sweetheart and would never be mean to anyone. When he finally comes in from the kitchen, the lunch crowd over, Gaius will stand in front of the guy, giving him the eyebrow, till he finally looks up with a sheepish look on his face. His eyes will flick towards Merlin, as if searching for something that Merlin isn't sure he can give, and then with a soft sigh of defeat, he'll hop off his stool and leave.

When it is his turn to clean the booths, Merlin will reach his table, look down at his little waffle fort, now sagging with the weight of soggy waffles, and see the napkin he's left behind, hidden under the plate. It will have a crude, cartoonish drawing of a castle, sometimes a knight, sometimes a dragon, a wizard with a ridiculous hat with bells on them, (and where had those memories come from because Merlin's fairly sure he's never seen the guy before today? He's fairly sure he'll _remember_ if they'd met before.) and Merlin will feel like he's missing something important.

* * *

And sometimes Arthur will come in, shaking his head like a great big golden retriever, spraying rain-soaked air around him as he shakes out his umbrella, softly cursing the weather under his breath. He'll look up and around the diner, noting the empty booths, the soft music playing from the speakers above and the chatter of voices coming from the kitchen. He'll sit himself at the counter, look through the window into the kitchen itself, and watch Will tell some story or other, his hands animatedly flailing through the air as if the bigger his gestures, the more likely it is for his story to be believed. He'll hear more than see Gwen laugh, a little tinkle that fills the air with so much joy, and in his mind's eye, he can see her throw her head back, brown curls dipping to the small of her back.

He'll fidget in his seat, wet jeans not being the most comfortable item of clothing ever, and he'll see something out of the corner of his eye. A third figure, standing a little away from Gwen and Will as he half-heartedly wipes some dishes in an attempt to make it seem like he is doing work and not skiving off. He'll see the blinding grin flash at Will, a grin so wide that it stretches from ear to ear and reduces his eyes to mere crinkles, only the smallest sliver of blue visible –

and Arthur's breath will catch in his throat.

His vision swims, and for a moment, he thinks that he is back in Camelot, the heavy weight of a circlet on his head, the murmur of a crowd around him, and Merlin … Merlin hiding in a corner with Gwen at his side, his red kerchief hiding the bites on his neck from their time that afternoon, his cheeks already a light pink from the wine he'd snuck from Arthur's goblet. As if sensing Arthur's eyes on him, Merlin turns mid-sentence, grinning that idiotic, slightly manic-looking and utterly adorable grin at him, and Arthur drops his fork in surprise. Even from where he is, Arthur can hear Merlin laugh at him, can see the fond little shake of his head as he mumbles something about prattish princes drinking more than they should and losing all sense of balance. Scowling, Arthur reaches for his goblet; he would show Merlin that he, unlike some idiotic manservants, he could handle his wine, his fingers closing around the stem of his goblet -

And jolts back to the cold, empty diner when his fingers close themselves into a fist rather than the cool metal of his feast goblet.

The ache is heavy in Arthur's heart, and he's not too sure that he can tell the different between _then_ and _now_, not too sure that he would be able to say that his name was Arthur Penn without his tongue wrapping around the _dragon_ at the end of it, and not too sure that he can pretend he doesn't know Merlin today, not when his mind is still trying to convince him that this is Camelot and his heart tells him that Merlin is _right there_ and all he needs to do is reach out, call his name -

When Merlin turns around, mid-sentence from his snipe at Will's latest dating disaster,all he sees is the slightest flash of red and the door softly closing shut.

* * *

Then there are the times when it is Merlin who will stumble in through the door, his limbs having not yet settled into the graceful elegance that Arthur knows he will have later in life, simultaneously trying to wriggle out of his coat while dragging out his work shirt from his bag and shouting his apologies to Gwen and Will for being late; it isn't his fault that his alarm clock is too soft to withstand a throw to the wall to shut it up. Gwen will smile indulgently at him like he is a pet kitten that she just wants to cuddle close and hide from the world, while Will would yell at him to get going quickly before Gaius realises how late he is, and Merlin will blow past Arthur like a human hurricane, dropping _excuses mes_ with _hellos_ and _I'm sorrys_.

He'll be extra effusive, smiling wider, laughing harder, working faster, trying to get back into Gwen and Will's good graces, even though they've already forgiven him and he knows it. He'll talk to the regulars, helping them finish the word cross puzzle, and slowly as the breakfast crowd thins, he'll find himself lingering more by the counter, each time finding himself closer to the cute guy, Arthur. He's not the most observant of guys, and usually it's Gwen who has to tell him when someone is flirting with him, but he can feel Arthur's eyes on him, following him around the diner as he works. He'd thought it was a joke at first, the guy is _gorgeous_, and while Merlin had outgrown his awkward teenaged years and had come to accept that he is not totally disgusting to look at, he's nowhere near the same orbit as that guy, much less his league. He'd gone to Gwen after the first hour, trying to ask her with his face, tilting his head jerkily and twitching his eye maniacally, if she thought the guy liked him, but she'd only looked at him in confusion and then Will had butted in, saying that he looked like he had a tick, and was he sure he wasn't seizing up? In his fierce rebuttal to Will, he hadn't notice Gwen's small unhappy frown as she looked at Arthur, and the sad smile she gave to him right before she ducked out of the kitchen.

By the time his shift ends, Merlin is pretty sure that the guy likes him, what with the way he'd sat through the breakfast, lunch _and_ dinner crowd just playing with his food, occasionally reading the paper, but always, _always_ keeping his eye on him. He can feel the tips of his ears turning red with the constant attention, and half the time he's still convinced that it's because he's got something on his face, but though it is a little bit creepy and stalkery, he's not yet willing to go over and demand the guy stop staring at him, and there's a little voice just telling him to _look_.

Look at the way his hair positively glows in the afternoon, golden strands picking up the sun's rays and Merlin's fingers itch with wanting to run them through the strands, wants to know if they'll feel warm like the sun on his fingers, wants to know if they smell like warm grass and happiness on a sunny day. See the way he hunches in his seat, as if there's a heavy weight on his shoulders, a responsibility that he can't seem to shake, a burden that is just his to carry, and _is he sure that Merlin can't help him with it? They say that it helps to talk. _ Watch the way his eyes rove the diner every once in a while as if assessing the place, looking out for potential threats, and when they're happy that there is none near him, they'll settle back on Merlin, making him want to grin and say _thank you for keeping me safe_, even though he knows that is ridiculous and really, how dangerous can a small diner be?

Merlin can't seem to get enough of this guy, wants to feast his eyes on his face, feels like a starving man who's been deprived of sight for years and now he just wants more. He catalogues the stranger: heavy shadows under his eyes, too-sharp teeth glinting when he speaks, full lips curving over the top of his cup as he drinks, and they feel beloved. He wants to know why they feel beloved, why it feels like his eyes have tracked this same path before, why it sets off a deep wanting in his gut.

But he's not an impatient guy, and for now, Merlin will just settle for approaching Arthur at the end of his shift, carefully folding his uniform so that his fingers won't twitch and show how nervous he is, and ask if he would like to go for a cup of coffee. And he knows what will happen next, has seen it a thousand times before. He knows that they'll go for that coffee, that they will talk for hours and that with every joke he tells, every confidence shared, every story told, that he'll fall in love just that little bit deeper. They'll end up at Merlin's place, legs tangled in the sheets, breaths loud in an otherwise silent apartment, and fingers locked tightly together as hips shifted and the world rights itself again.

And then Merlin will wake up the next morning, alone in his bed and wonder why he was naked. He'll snuggle back under the covers, catch a whiff of something in the air that ought to be familiar to him, but isn't, and his eyes will fall on the clock , causing him to jump out saying that he's _late late late and Gaius is going to kill him._

_

* * *

_

All these times, it all starts with Arthur remembering who he is, who he's been and who he's missing. It was an ordinary day when the Once and Future King regains his memories, nothing special about it, no extraordinary event sparking the first fall of stones that will bring down the avalanche. He just wakes up one day, and remembers. Not just that first time when he was a prince and has a manservant that drove him mad in all the ways that counted, not just now when he was a thirty-something bachelor working endless hours in a cubicle knowing that there was something bigger for him out there if only he could find it, but all the times in between, too. A soldier, a nobleman, a hippie, a soldier again, but always _always _with Merlin by his side. He'd always been the one to find Arthur, always there to prod and push and push and prod till the stubbornness wore out and Arthur did something with his life. _We're here for a reason_, he'd say, and even when there's no war to fight in, no cause to fight for, they'll always find something to make a difference in.

Except this time, he's not here. And Arthur has wasted thirty-years of his life working in a meaningless job, living a meaningless life, and all he wants is to find Merlin, to make it all right again.

He does find him, though in the end, it's more down to sheer dumb luck, _or destiny_, Merlin would say, rather than the ads in the papers Arthur has bought or the people he's asked. It's been six months, and with every day that passes by with no sign of Merlin, Arthur feels more and more dejected, more lost, more willing to give up, though he knows he won't ever because Merlin has spent countless lifetimes doing this and he'd always found him in the end.

There's a diner, and god, is Arthur hungry, craving for some waffles at 4pm in the afternoon, and when he walks in, Merlin is right there, serving some dishes, laughing with the customers about something or other, hair the same mess as it ever was, ears still utterly ridiculous, but _right there_, and for a moment, Arthur wants to slap the upside of his head and say y_ou idiot, I've been looking for you for ages. _

But it's not a happy ending, not a _and they live happily ever after_ in sight, because when he sits there, grinning so widely that his jaw is slightly aching, his heart full bursting with joy and smug satisfaction, Merlin comes up to him, shouts an order to Will _(Will is here too!)_ over his shoulder and looks at him with a cheerful grin asking _what can I do for you?_ There's no hint of recognition in his voice, and though his eyes look at Arthur with appreciation, there's nothing there – no twinkle of laughter saying _I knew you'd find me_, no twinge of annoyance at _what took you so long?_, not even the glaze of fondness at _hello, Arthur._

He's confused, of course he's confused, Merlin had never had this much trouble with him. As far as Arthur can remember, Merlin had always just appeared and he'd remember everything, and why wouldn't it work with Merlin, too? Why won't he remember? But maybe Merlin's just being Merlin, making things difficult when they really should be easy, and so he says nothing that first day, just orders his waffles and eats silently. He sees Guinevere, and Gaius too, and though it's a joy to see them all back, there's never been so many of them back in the same place before.

He comes back the next day. And the next. And the day after that too. But every time he comes in, Merlin will just look at him with that same empty smile and clueless eyes. And while maybe Merlin needs time to remember who Arthur is, remember who he is, who they are, surely by now he'd recognise Arthur as a regular customer. But he doesn't, and so they repeat the same dance over and over again, till one day, just as Arthur is about to enter the diner, he's cornered by Gaius before he can open the door.

… _newspaper clippings …_

… _amnesia …_

… _accident …_

… _same day …_

… _can't retain new information …_

… _best if you stay away …_

… _good for Merlin …_

It's all a bit confusing for Arthur still, all the medical terms and gruesome pictures of the accident, but what it comes down to is this: Merlin doesn't remember him, can't remember him, won't remember him. And for a while, all Arthur can do is rage at the stupid world, at stupid destiny and stupid fucking dragons for telling him about _his other side of the coin_ and what's the use of all that when his stupid fucking coin can't fucking remember? There is a lot of cursing at first, a lot of throwing things against the wall in his flat, a lot of complaints from his neighbours.

He tries to follow Gaius' advice, tries to get on with his life, reconciling the fact that he'll never have Merlin, not in this life at least, and he'll just have to live with it, he's survived thirty years without that idiot and he can do so again. But it's not – the same. And he can't – without Merlin. He hadn't known about Merlin then, hadn't known what exactly it was he was missing, and now that he'd found it, Arthur can't seem to let go. So he comes back one day, loitering outside for a while, trying to avoid being seen by Gaius while catching glimpses of Merlin, and there's a frown on his face; a small frown of confusion every time he looks at the booth where Arthur used to sit, as if expecting someone to be there, though he's not sure who. He carries the frown with him the whole day, till by the end of his shift, he's massaging his temples and Gwen has told him repeatedly to go home, or at least lie down. Arthur can see how tired he looks, the unhappy tilt of his mouth, the frown creating new lines on his forehead.

And maybe Arthur knows then why there is so many of them back right now. Why Merlin was given Will and Gwen and Gaius, and Arthur doesn't have anyone, not even him. And maybe even though Merlin can't remember anything new, and doesn't know that he can't remember Arthur, he can still feel it, can still feel that there's something just out of his reach, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can't grasp the end of that string of memory. And maybe all this time, Arthur has been a selfish bastard thinking only of himself, when Merlin is right there, when at least he gets to know that Merlin is here with him, when the same can't be said for him.

So Arthur braves Will's glares and Gwen's unnaturally sloppy handling of his coffee and Gaius's disapproving eyebrow, and decides he'll just be persistent and keep coming till one day, Merlin _will_ remember him.

* * *

And then there's this once, just this one time, on a rare wonderful sunny day when it seems like a crime to stay indoors, Merlin will look up as the door chimes, signaling the arrival of another customer, and smile at him. He'll take Arthur's hand, slipping his fingers in between Arthur's like they'd always been there, like it has only been hours since they'd last held hands, and not days _(years, centuries)_, shout to Gaius that he is taking the day off, and leads him out into the sun.


End file.
